


Dyslexia

by Kahvi



Category: Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-21
Updated: 2008-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahvi/pseuds/Kahvi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julia asks Noel to take care of Julian while she's away. Noel does his very best to comply. After all, he and Julian are always comfortable together... right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dyslexia

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to [](http://smaych.livejournal.com/profile)[**smaych**](http://smaych.livejournal.com/) for looking this over!

  
The thing about it was, they weren't all that more drunk than they had been, other times. They were drunk, it went without saying, but it was an appropriate, 'nicely drunk' sort of drunk, where you just got all comfortable and mellow. And cuddly. Well, Noel got cuddly. He couldn't speak for Julian, who, for the most part, merely seemed to put up with being cuddled. Then again, there had been nicely drunk, comfortable times when Julian had thrown himself at Noel and stuck to him, like a lovesick limpet, up until the point where somebody pointed out to him that he was doing it. Then, he would scuttle away, like crab. A shy, embarrassed crab. He was a regular seaside menagerie of hang-ups, was Julian. But anyway; they were drunk to the point of Noel being allowed up into Julian's lap without protest, and happily bounding towards the point where, normally, Julian would sneak an arm around Noel's waist, and pull him closer. And that's how it all got started, really.

“You want to head back to mine?” Julian looked up with muddled brown eyes that seemed to be swirling slightly in his head.

Noel laughed, and threw his arms around Julian's neck, like a scarf. Best not let him in on that analogy. Julian had always violently resisted any attempts at a makeover. “You idiot! That's where we are now. This is your couch, remember?”

Grunting in agreement, Julian leaned further back into it, closing his eyes. Noel, now reduced to a trendy Barratt accessory, was forced to follow, and ended up leaning against his chest. “Where's Julia?”

“Oh, come on; you're not _that_ drunk. She's the one who called me, remember? Told me to take you out, show you a good time while she was away?”

“What are you now; an escort?”

Noel giggled, snorting into Julian's chest. Suddenly, there was a hand in his hair, stroking it tentatively, as if afraid to mess up the style. Noel looked up, surprised, but Julian still had his eyes closed.

“That's not what she said, anyway.”

“How would you know?”

“Because she phoned _me_ up, not you. I handed the phone to you, remember? She said she wanted to keep me from staying in the house all week, watching bad TV and getting drunk.”

“You did get drunk.”

“Yeah, but there was no TV, was there. I can't imagine anyone in any of those places you dragged me into even knowing what a TV is. They've got their iPods, and their Blackberries, and... ” He trailed off, tired and losing interest in the subject.

“Did she not want you to get drunk?” Julian's hand was still in his hair. It made Noel relaxed and tense all at the same time. He couldn't quite work out why. Julian chuckled; a deep, rumbling sound that made Noel think of bears and large, friendly, furry creatures. “What's so funny?”

“The idea that she's asked to _you_ to keep me out of trouble.”

Twisting round to straddle Julian's unresisting body, Noel flashed a grin. “What exactly is that supposed to mean, Barratt?”

Suddenly all-over Northern and commanding, Julian sat up, grabbed Noel's waist, and pulled him closer. Noel actually _yelped_ , and then giggled at the idea of having done so. Like a little girl. He might as well give up, and start wearing pigtails. When he looked into Julian's eyes, all over romance-novel swoony and pretend-macho, he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “You're trouble, Fielding.” His voice was rough and grumbly, like nicotine-coated gravel.

“Am I, now?”

“You're nothing but trouble. Seducing me with your...” Julian's eyes narrowed, as if the word he was searching for would appear in front of his eyes if he did.

“My what? My girly drainpipes that are girl's?”

“Fuck off, I'm trying to be serious.”

“Right, my mistake. It's just, people usually don't grin as madly when they're being serious. My sly, pointy fox-face, then? It is; it's my fine chiseled features, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” Julian grumbled, trying not to laugh, “it's driven me mad with lust.” And before Noel could counter, he'd pulled him even closer, pushing their faces together, opening his mouth wide and pressing an urgent tongue against Noel's lips, which parted out of instinct and habit. Oh, this was fun! It wasn't often that Julian got comfortable enough to do this, but when he did, it was fantastic. Like he was all himself, somehow; no filters. Like you could taste him in the flavors of his mouth.

It got quite intense, which went with the mood of it all, of course. They grabbed at one another's hair and clothes; anything to hold on. Noel pressed his thighs harder against Julian's – it was like riding a motorbike, really. And then... Noel couldn't place it, but there was a point where it stopped being funny. Not less fun; quite the opposite, really; it got more fun. Just, less _funny._ And then he slid just a little bit closer, and his crotch – he was hard, of course, and in the heat of the moment he didn't think to hide that fact – pressed against Julian's, finding an unexpected answering hardness therein.

Julian's whole body shuddered, and before either of them knew what was going on, his hands were fumbling at Noel's belt, giving up after a long, frustrated moment, and going straight for his zippered fly. Noel threw his head back, laughing – maybe this was funny after all; the two of them crossing this last barrier – and then his cock was in Julian's hand, and he wasn't laughing any longer.

Closing his eyes, Noel put his hands on Julian's shoulders, leaning back to allow just enough space between them for Julian's hand to keep at what it was doing. The touch was fleeting, but determined; striving to find a pace and stick to it. Noel looked down, meeting closed eyes and a forced expression. He wanted to kiss the tension away, but something told him not to. It was like seeing Julian play when he thought he was alone, forgetting that anyone else was in the room; if you reminded him you were there, he'd stop, looking lost and awkward. Besides, this felt _good._ There wasn't a thing they hadn't shared, and this was just a natural extension.

Julian had leaned forward to suck on Noel's collarbone. Good. Dee would want hard evidence, and Noel didn't think he could get away with stealing any underpants. The idea made him laugh, and the resulting little shockwaves of pleasure made him realize how close he was, already, to release. “Ju...” he moaned, running a hand down into those brown, determined curls... and then the pleasure stopped. “Ju?”

Julian was looking up at him, not wide-eyed, never wide-eyed, Julian, but the effect was much the same. “Oh... god.”

Not a good sign. “Ju? Are you...”

“Christ; I'm sorry, Noel. I'm...” Hands gripping Noel's waist and setting him aside like an ill-placed potted plant, Julian stumbled off the couch, rubbing his hand on his jeans. “I have to... I've got to...” he told the wall in front, tearing at his hair with the hand that was, clearly, considered clean. And then he was out the door without so much as a glance behind.

Cock aching, head spinning, Noel let himself fall back onto the couch, wondering when Julian would realize he couldn't stay away from his own home forever. Five hours later though, he was about ready to admit defeat. This was ridiculous. Dee would worry. Picking himself up, he gathered up his little things and left.

 

* * *

 

The text ticked in late in the afternoon the following Monday. They hadn't spoken since, and Noel, knowing Julian's moods pretty well by now, had decided to let him take the lead.

 _Sorry. So sorry. Forgive me?_

Shaking his head, Noel tapped out a reply.

 _what for, you daft geezer?_

 _Not normal. Guys don't do that. Not straight guys. Forgive me?_

Noel looked at the letters, as if they might change if he found the right angle. But then, finding he right angle was rather difficult when you weren't the one who was bent the wrong way. _Always,_ he replied, finally.


End file.
